


Non-reactive

by TheDarknessFactor



Series: The Scientific Implications of Two Sisters [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Mother-Daughter Relationship, Post-Consular Class Story, Pre-Trooper Class Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarknessFactor/pseuds/TheDarknessFactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regardless of what she wants, this isn't what Kulah'ni is meant for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Non-reactive

**Author's Note:**

> This story switches the focus back to Kulah'ni, again. It also introduces my Consular, a Togrutan. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Torunna sorts through the pile of ancient documents on her desk while her pupil meditates in the corner.

She pauses with her hand on one, which she knows is probably better off being burned or buried somewhere far out in Tython's wilderness – far even from the Flesh Raiders.  Some knowledge is too dangerous even for the Jedi, but most of her esteemed colleagues on the Council disagree.

Torunna lets out a barely audible sigh, feeling an itch in her muscles.

“Master?”

She smiles.  “Do not trouble yourself, Kulah'ni.  My frustrations are small.”

“If you say so,” Kulah'ni replies.  “But you’re always telling me that it helps to let out my frustrations rather than leave them bottled up – no matter what the other masters say.  Maybe you ought to take your own advice.”

“It's a Council disagreement, nothing more.”  Torunna stands and stretches.  “But while we're both sufficiently distracted, perhaps now is a good time to get some practice sparring in?  I hear you've been improving greatly.”

Kulah'ni blushes.  “I'm hardly a match for the other students, Master.”

“You wouldn't have an incentive to keep working at it if you were.”

They make their way down to the training grounds together, bowing their heads for any other masters that pass.  Kulah'ni keeps close to Torunna’s side.  Torunna suspects that she will never become used to the whispers that follow her around the temple; that thought saddens her.

 The training grounds are crowded at this time of day.  Torunna hears Kulah'ni whisper, “There is no emotion.  There is peace.”

She has been awoken, more than once, by the sound of Kulah'ni repeating that to herself in the middle of the night.

Each of them takes a spare saber from the wall, moving off to the side in the hopes of avoiding attracting an audience.  Kulah'ni relaxes into her stance almost immediately, her gaze steady on Torunna as she waits for her to make the first move.

 Torunna is impressed with her patience, so she obliges.

It is an effort not to draw on the Force during the fight, but Kulah'ni moves quickly and gracefully, utilizing one of the defensive forms she has been taught.  Torunna notices that she is careful not to devote too much energy to any single strike, and she stays as aware of her surroundings as any non-Force sensitive can. 

Eventually, however, Torunna sees an opening, and steps into Kulah’ni’s space to deliver a strike that knocks the practice blade from her grasp.  Kulah'ni is breathing hard from exertion, but she smiles.

“That was excellent, Kulah'ni,” Torunna praises.  “I daresay you handle yourself better than many of the other students.”

“Thank you, master.”

They run through a few more bouts before Torunna is satisfied with Kulah'ni’s progress.  She offers to heal the worst of the bruises, but Kulah'ni waves her away.  “It's nothing that won't heal on its own, Master.”

They take their meals in Torunna’s rooms.  The silence between the two of them is not unusual, but the troubled look on Kulah'ni’s face is.  Torunna holds off on asking about it until after Kulah'ni has stuck the dishes in the sonic washer.

“What's wrong?” she asks.

 Kulah'ni stops moving.  “Grand Master Shan spoke with me yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“She just wanted to speak with me about options for my future.”

“Options?”  Torunna’s voice comes out sharper than she intends.  “Do you not wish to become a Jedi?”

Kulah'ni bristles.  “Of course I do!  But that's… not possible.”

In her indignity, for one moment, she slips back into her native accent.  Then she breathes in deeply and closes her eyes.

When she reopens them, Torunna can sense peace settling within her.  “Master, with the way the galaxy is right now… if I were to become a fully fledged Knight, I would be little more than a liability.”

“That still gives Satele no right,” mutters Torunna.

 Kulah'ni smiles.  “Be kind, Master.”

“Turning my own words against me?”

“Sometimes, I think even you need reminding.”  Kulah'ni leans back against the counter.  “Master Shan's ideas were good – I think she's given the matter more than a little thought.  I could become an ambassador for the Order.  I could work with Master Bjorsen in the library.  She did say that she wouldn't be able to fund studies at any of the private academies, but that she would give recommendations for any public ones.”

They are not bad suggestions, but Torunna is still somewhat miffed.  She remembers a younger Kulah'ni striving to do the best she possibly could at her lessons, absorbing the Jedi teachings at a remarkable rate.  She once told Torunna that she felt becoming a Jedi was what she was meant to do – and Torunna has never had the heart to tell her otherwise.

 Kulah'ni bows.  “I have duties to attend to, Master,” she says.  “But we may speak on the subject later.”

Torunna watches her go, a heaviness in her heart.

* * *

Satele is not meditating when Torunna finds her.  Instead, she is sorting through datapads – probably dealing with the Sith and the Empire, if Torunna had to guess.  The dark circles beneath Satele’s eyes suggest a lack of sleep, also likely to do with the aforementioned topics.

“Master Felmar,” she greets.  “Please, come in.  What can I do for you?”

Torunna has never been one for small talk.  “We need to discuss my ward.”

“Kulah'ni Jaenn?”  Satele pushes the datapads away, folding her hands.  “I assume she went over the list of options with you?”

“She did.”  Torunna has to make herself unclench her fists.  “I want to know why you didn't consult with me first.”

“Because you would not have had the heart to deny her the chance of becoming a Jedi – which we both know would merely get her killed, no matter how skilled she is.”  Satele uses her words like weapons.  “Your emotional investment in her has always been strong, but it's hardly fair to give her false hope.”

“Do you think I am that foolish?”

“At times, yes.”  Satele gives her a penetrating stare.  “We are both well aware of your unorthodox methods, Barsen’thor, but they have always been effective, and your compassion more than makes up for it.  In this case, however, you must understand why I cannot allow Kulah'ni to become a Knight.”

Torunna feels her strength wane, a soft sigh escaping her.  “I do understand,” she admits.  “I merely wish I didn't.”

Satele's eyes flash with sympathy.  “Kulah'ni will excel at whatever she chooses,” she says.  “And she shares your knack for compassion.  For what it's worth, I believe her future to be a bright one.”

The Force has always been clouded where Kulah'ni is concerned.  Torunna hopes that Satele is right.  

“She seemed fairly acquiescent when I spoke with her about it.”

Torunna snorts.  “Kulah'ni doesn't allow herself to have desires.  Not consciously, anyway.”

“And it's that, among many other things, that makes me truly regret that she cannot be one of us.”

There's the stirring of anger again, and Torunna has to consciously push it down.  _Be kind_ , she reminds herself.

“I hope that she will be allowed to continue her lessons, in the meantime,” Torunna says.

“Of course.”  Satele tilts her head to the side.  “Have you given any thought to taking a Padawan?”

Torunna nearly recoils at the question.  Kulah'ni calls her ‘Master’.  Torunna tries to imagine splitting her time between Kulah'ni and another young Jedi, trying to balance the two, and can already see the way Kulah'ni will gradually allow herself to fade until the time comes for her to leave Tython.  Torunna suddenly cannot bear the thought of prioritizing anyone else – not when the future looms ahead.

 For all her great wisdom, Satele has a way of being obtuse towards others.

“I will not,” she replies.  She spins on her heel, heads for one of the combat training rooms, and does not come out for hours.

* * *

 

Kulah’ni moves behind Torunna, remaining silent while she greets the village elders.  For some reason, she doesn't garner the same curiosity here that she does back at the Temple – perhaps because she has been coming here since she was ten, and the Flesh Raiders are no longer surprised to see her.

 There is a tug on her pant leg, and she looks down to see one of the children gripping the fabric.

 She chuckles.  “Hello, little one.”

The child says nothing, but they don't let go of her, even when she begins to move away.  There is no worried parent rushing over, so Kulah'ni assumes that she is trusted enough.

They make their way to the hut of the Raktonar, the most feared warrior in the village (and, by extension, the leader).  Kulah’ni steps off to the side while Torunna enters; the child stays with her.  The rest of the villagers disperse, each going off to resume whatever task they were doing before the Barsen’thor and her ward arrived.  Kulah’ni, knowing that they will mostly ignore her, gently ushers the child over to an adult Flesh Raider who appears to be waiting for it.

The parent nods at her, then leads the child away.

Kulah’ni kneels in the grass and closes her eyes, syncing her breathing to what Torunna likes to call the ‘heartbeat of the universe’ — the movement of the villagers around her, the breeze ruffling the grass, the whisper of the trees.  She lets herself sink into calm, feeling her muscles loosen and relax.  She lets lingering tension seep out of her, picturing it sinking into the earth.

She meditates and waits, until a hand on her shoulder startles her back into reality. 

“Even in such a busy place,” Torunna says, chuckling.  “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.”

They leave the village without the fanfare with which they arrived.  Kulah’ni waits until the noise of the Flesh Raiders has receded before she speaks.

“I’ve given some thought to Master Shan’s proposal.”

“Have you?”  Torunna’s tone is impossible to read.

Kulah’ni nods.  “I’ve discovered a public academy that I believe I’d be a good fit for.”

“Kulah’ni…”  Torunna sighs.  “I haven’t had the chance to tell you, but… you _can_ be a Jedi, if you truly wish.  I have enough sway with the Council that they would eventually see it my way, whatever Satele says.  I know how much you wanted this, and I believe she was in the wrong to turn you away from the idea so soon.”

“No, she wasn’t,” Kulah’ni says.  She stops walking, planting her feet and crossing her arms.  “Master, I know that… I know that you would never let me down, but I’m never going to be a Jedi.  If I ever receive the title, it’ll be just that— a title.  Nothing more.”

“That’s not—“

“In this case, logic is more important than what I want.”

Torunna stares at her.  There is no denying the way her eyebrows cinch together, or the tight line of her mouth.  Then she sighs.  “You deserve to be happy, Kulah’ni.  If that is as a Jedi, then I see nothing wrong with it.”

Kulah’ni doesn’t know how else to tell her.  “Master, you’re only making this harder.”

Torunna’s expression crumples.  “You— you’re right.  I’m sorry.  I just want every option to be open to you.”

Kulah’ni smiles.  “You’ve always been good to me, Master.  I don’t know where I’d be, if you hadn’t found me.”

“Probably the captain of a pirate crew.”  Torunna’s humor has returned.  “All right.  I won't argue with you on this.  What academy were you thinking of attending?”

Kulah’ni breathes in, trying to recall the feeling from meditating in the village, staving off her nerves.  “The Devosin Academy on Corellia.”

Torunna blinks, then blinks again.  Kulah’ni winces inwardly; this is the reaction she had been dreading. 

“The military academy?” Torunna finally asks.  Her voice is without inflection.  “For those hoping to join the Grand Army of the Republic?”

Kulah’ni nods.  “That’s the one.”

They both resume their trek back to the temple at the same moment; Torunna is silent for much of it.  Kulah'ni turns her eyes back to the pathway, avoiding looking at Torunna’s expression.  She swallows, making an effort to keep her hands loose at her sides while she waits for Torunna to give some form of response.

“This isn't what I expected,” Torunna says.  “But it is your decision, and I will stand by it.”

At once, Kulah'ni feels lighter.  “Thank you, Master.”

* * *

 

“May I ask why you chose the army?”

It's difficult to hold the Grand Master’s gaze for a long period of time, but Kulah'ni is able to draw strength from Torunna’s presence behind her.

“It's something of a personal matter, Grand Master,” she answers.  “I'd rather not reveal it.”

Master Shan looks thoughtful, but she nods her acceptance.  “Very well.  Then I believe your first term will begin there in a matter of weeks.  I think that they recommend that you travel there early, in order to acclimate to Corellia.”

“That is correct, Master Shan.”

“I see.”  Satele looks at her with some phantom pain in her eyes, but Kulah'ni has no time to wonder about that before she's speaking again.  “Your future is far from set in stone, Kulah'ni, but I believe that the Grand Army will be fortunate to have you.  I wish you the best in your studies.”

“Thank you.”

Satele looks at Torunna.  “Master Felmar, would you stay a moment?”

“Of course,” Torunna replies.  When Kulah'ni catches her eye, she sees many more emotions than she would expect to see from Torunna.

It's only a few minutes, but when Torunna emerges from Grand Master Shan's study, it feels like there is a weight between the two of them that has never been there before.  Kulah'ni takes a deep breath, reminds herself that the galaxy is ever-changing, and accepts it.

 “I suppose you'll need to start packing,” Torunna says.

“I suppose,” Kulah'ni echoes, but there's little enthusiasm in her words.

They return to Torunna’s chambers, where Kulah'ni goes to her room and starts to gather her belongings.  She finds, buried beneath her sleeping mat, an old blaster and a cloak, and hesitates only a moment before shoving them into the very bottom of her bag.  They remind her of her motivation.

Clothing and travel items are packed next, followed by a toolkit given to her by Torunna several Life Days ago.  It has been gathering dust ever since Kulah'ni decided that her life in the Jedi Temple did not require such a thing.

 Now that that is no longer the case, she thinks it will prove useful.

 Kulah'ni packs, and prepares for the days to come, fully absorbed in the task.  She does not see Torunna sitting in the other room, her face in her hands.

* * *

 

Three days pass by with startling speed, and then suddenly Kulah'ni is about to board a shuttle to the orbital station.

Torunna is with her.  Kulah'ni is caught with the sudden urge to grab her hand, as she did when she first arrived on Tython.

 “Big day,” she tries to joke.  Her voice comes out like a croak.

“Yes,” Torunna agrees.  She reaches out and clasps both of Kulah'ni’s hands in her own.  “Kulah'ni, war will change you.  It changes everyone who is caught up in it.  I will not lie to you now – I do not want this for you.”

“I know, Master.”  It hasn't been difficult for her to guess.  “But this is something I have to do.”

“That, I believe,” Torunna says, smiling.  “But please, remember – always remember – be kind.  Even towards those who would not show kindness in return.  Don't lose that part of yourself in the fighting.  You _value_ life – being forced to take it will change your view of the galaxy.”

Kulah'ni bows her head.  Torunna leans forward and kisses her forehead. 

“May the Force be with you,” she says.  The sadness in her eyes speaks for itself.

 Kulah'ni turns away from Torunna, and though there is certainty in her stride, she cannot help but feel as though she has made a mistake.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, a few notes:
> 
> 1\. Those who read the previous works are probably wondering what happened to Kulah'ni in the interim. I debated simply telling you here, but then I realized that Kulah'ni will most likely reveal it herself in a future story. But the basics of it are that Torunna found her when she was around ten years old, almost a year after she ran away from her mother.
> 
> 2\. Torunna is the sole caretaker of Kulah'ni - that was the condition for which Kulah'ni was allowed to live on Tython (that, and she had to do some work around the Temple, hence the mention of her 'duties'). Most of the Council disapproves of Torunna's close relationship with Kulah'ni, but Satele has never seen it as damaging.
> 
> 3\. I realize that this makes Kulah'ni's backstory dangerously similar to Theron's, though it didn't occur to me until after I'd already had this fleshed out. Keep in mind that Kulah'ni has very different reasons for resenting her mother, she has a sibling, and she wasn't raised as a Jedi from birth. That does not mean, however, that she and Theron won't bond over it later on.
> 
> 4\. Torunna is part of what I call the 'previous generation' - three classes whose stories occurred many years before the 'canon' era of class stories started. The previous generation includes the Consular (Torunna), the Bounty Hunter, and the Smuggler. All other class stories take place around the same time as S'kora's and Kulah'ni's. 
> 
> 5\. After this, we'll be getting into canonical Trooper territory.
> 
> As always, feel free to drop by my [tumblr](http://darknessfactor.tumblr.com/ask) if you have any questions!


End file.
